Page 48 of The True-Blue Romance

“Ah, see, Nolan definitely prefers savory.”

I press my elbow against Benji’s as we start to prepare for the day. “Everyone’s different. But I’m sure we can find a few more recipes that’ll fill that rockstar up. How’s he with tomatoes? I picked some green tomatoes yesterday and thought we could fry them up. Learning to fry is a particular skill you’ll need in the South.”

“He likes pasta with red sauce.”

“Excellent. Let’s get to work.”

I instruct Benji to give the tomatoes a good wash and watch over him. Then I guide him through cutting them just the right width; the key to great fried green tomatoes is to slice them just right, otherwise they’re too mushy, and no one is happy.

“Into the egg wash, then into the flour mix, then we fry them once the oil is hot enough.”

“The oil scares me,” Benji admits, warily looking at the finally hot enough oil baskets.

“Scarier on the stove at your own home, trust me. Practice will make that less scary too. Now, pop them in. They should float.”

And they do. Benji watches them, then we take them out just as they start to brown. We do three batches before I call it a day and work on the spicy Cajun sauce to accompany it. I let Benji have the first bite and first dip in the sauce, watching as he chews over the tomato like he expects to hate it. Thoughtful and decisive.

“I think Nolan will love it.”

I raise one eyebrow. “And you?”

Benji’s grin grows. “I love it too.”

“That matters too. Now let’s work on some other things for the rest of the day.”

A few hours later, a knock on the side of the food truck has me and Benji freezing as we finish our daily lessons. Benji shrugs and opens the back door to reveal Beau with his arms crossed. Benji just grins at Beau, all sunshine, no malice. I’ve really started to like the kid the past few months working with him. I like the way he babbles about things but hardly ever shares anything about his life at the same time. That takes serious skill.

“Hi!” Benji says cheerily.

“Y’all wanna come see the restaurant site? Walls are up.”

“Walls are up!” I shout with mock glee, even though I’m actually excited.

Beau doesn’t respond; he just turns around and heads in the direction of the future restaurant. Benji looks over at me for direction, so I nod toward the door. I finish wiping down the counters as Benji jumps out of the truck. He’s started wearing a bandana around his head to protect his hair like I do, and I have a sneaking suspicion his rockstar boyfriend has taken a particular shine to it. Unlike me, who takes the bandana off immediately, Benji always wanders off toward his new Jeep Gladiator truck with it still tied over his head.

Benji stands with his hands on his head, head tilted. “Coming?”

I shake myself loose of runaway thoughts before jumping out of the truck. After closing the doors, I walk with Benji toward the future restaurant. The sun is still pretty high in the sky despite it being the end of the day, which is the best part of summer. The extra sunshine hours make everyone a little happier and amenable.

Benji bumps his shoulder into mine. “Kinda cool that in a few months we’ll be cooking lunch and dinner for guests in a restaurant.”

“Who said you’ll be cooking? Maybe you’ll be hostess.”

“I think I’d be a good hostess. I’m very friendly,” Benji says in total agreement.

“Nah, you’ll be in the kitchen at night and going to culinary school during the day.”

Benji freezes, his mouth gaping wide. “What?”

I wink at him. “My friend at the university called me. Thought I might like to give you the news before the official letter goes out.”

Benji still stands frozen in disbelief. “Really?” Benji asks, eyes shining. He whistles out a breath, smile awed. “I can’t wait to tell Nolan. Oh my god.”

I press my knuckles into his shoulder, giving him a little shove. “You’re doing great, kid. Now let’s go get the nickel tour from Beau.”

Benji still looks shocked when we finally make our way to the construction site. The trucks are gone for the day. The scent of fresh plywood floats on the warm summer breeze, and I oddly wish Lee was here with us for this moment. And just as I think that, a Clay Road Farms work truck pulls up fifty feet away. Lee jumps out, looking all sorts of delicious in his work T-shirt, faded blue jeans, and boots. He pinches the edge of his baseball cap as he approaches, effectively tipping his hat to Benji and me.

I must get some sort of look on my face because Benji sighs before muttering a quiet, “Knew it.” I stomp on his foot and he squeaks in surprise.